A Letter To My Adult Children Somewhere in the Distant Future,

Firstly, may I offer my condolences to you. I’d too be pissed if I had me for a mother. I hope you accept and love me regardless of how much therapy you need now. I beg your forgiveness, pray you boys married capable women and baby girl learned how to fold laundry under her Dad’s tutelage.

* Apologies on the ironing situation. Really, it is such a long and arduous chore and you immediately wrinkled your clothing back up, so really, I didn’t hardly ever bother. It was far simpler to throw ironable clothing into Dad’s drycleaning bin. He never did notice…

* Terribly sorry super tasty meals weren’t provided. No one in the history of time has botched blue box macaroni and cheese worse than me. Now if you had been good little bambinos and liked chicken proscuitto lasagna … My heart hurts to think you will have come home from college for holiday break and your homecooked meal will be raspberries and shredded rotisserie chicken.

* I am aptly apologetic that as young children you were aware of Walking Dead plotlines and were schooled on how to survive the inevitable zombie apocalypse that never came to the suburbs of Philadelphia.

* I am regretful of my tone. I hope you weren’t too scarred by my “outside yelly voice” that I used inside. A. Lot….aka All of the time.

* I am sorry you showed up at every birthday party you were invited to with a movie theatre gift card. Really, who has time to buy and wrap presents for other peoples children?

* Do ya’ll still have potty mouths? I guess I should have played the part of the grownup and not laughed at all the toilet humor. Or said dammit so much. Oops.

* Firstborn, do you remember the time when you were 9 years old and we were on our way back from another hellacious “field trip” (do I get bonus points for going on those migraine inducing ventures) and you cried tears of joy when upon inquiry I told you that all we were doing that Friday night was watching a movie? Yikes on the overscheduling. I am guessing you quit all your atheletic and musical pursuits by middle school due to overexposure.

* I do you hope you don’t still eat food that was dropped on the floor. We had a 30 second rule during your childhood…as long as you could grab the Cheez It before the ants did…

Happy Mother’s day to me, a low-average mother of questionable parenting. Much Love, Mom

P.S. Under no circumstances do I apologize for being the Mega Homework Nag. Ya’ll should be leaders of the free world…

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